Wooing the Youngest Weasley
by UhurA-star
Summary: Once Ginny and Draco are forced to be married and concieve, they must learn about each other and learn to love each other. Although Draco might already have an edge.
1. Chapter One

The table was a mass of ginger hair and noise. Hermione, Harry, Fleur, Teddy, and a growing Angelina stood out among the crowd. Teddy and Victoire shrieked while chasing each other on tiny toy broomsticks. Ginny sat with Charlie who was listening slightly disgusted to Angelina tell Hermione how large her stomach had yet to grow. He took a large gulp of butterbeer and smiled shiftily at Ginny.

Ginny herself drained her glass of the last few gulps of wine. She had to say something now while her family was all present (not Percy maybe, but when was he ever around anyways). That was how the rest had done it...

Ginny took a deep breath and placed a steadying hand on the table. Her mother had just stood and waved her wand above all their heads. The dishes neatly lifted themselves and started to float toward the sink.

"Mum, dad, I have a little announcement."

"What is it, dear?" her mother said, barely looking up.

"Well," Ginny began slowly, "I've been assigned." She placed a bejeweled hand conspicuously on the table. Mr. Weasley looked up suddenly from the paper he was reading. Mrs. Weasley nearly dropped her wand.

" You- you what?"

"I'm engaged. To be married. By order of the Ministry, under that new ridiculous law. I received the letter last week." Ginny looked down at her hands. Harry looked away.

Stillness engulfed the table. Bill, who was sitting opposite Ginny, extended his open palm.

"May I?" he inquired. Ginny placed her left fingers delicately on his palm.

"Oh, my," Bill gasped. "This stone is gorgeous." he pulled Ginny's hand closer to his own face to examine the ring to the best of his ability.

"The detail is exquisite and beautiful; look at this subtle job he's done here, goblin-made, unbreakable; it's quite a ring. We shant know its true power however until the ring can be removed. That only happens the day of the wedding."

"She can't take off her own engagement ring?"

Voices shouted up the table "That's absurd!"

"Violent cur-"

"I doubt this is as rash an act as it seems." Bill said calmly and the noise was subdued so he kept speaking to his audience. "The enchantments found on rings are rarely violent in nature. This one simply does not permit the intended wearer to remove it until it is replaced by its pair, which I would presume is a wedding ring."

Ginny nodded, "This is what I believe."

"And who, may I asked has placed this irremovable ring on my only daughters finger?" Mr. Weasley inquired soundly.

"That would be me."

A slightly unfriendly voice had entered the Burrow. It was cold yet clean, and intriguing. It was Draco, in formal deep green robes with black underlays. The only people in the small dining room that didn't jump at the noise were Angelina, Fleur, and Charlie, who seemed more or less unaware of the nature of the interruption. The rest nearly jumped out of their chairs. Certainly the men had drawn their wands and were now circling around the young blond boy who had placed his wand on the coffee table nearest the door that he had entered uninvited, the wand quite out of reach now.

Harry was the first to speak. His wand pointed right at Draco's statuesque figure, Harry spat, "What are you doing here, Malfoy? How did you get in? This house is barred against those with the Dark Mark," he said the last phrase with an extra jab of contempt.

"If you can call it a-" Draco paused briefly before carrying on more eloquently. "For your first question, Potter, I will need you to scamper, for it is only something I may answer privately with ." Draco nodded courteously at Arthur. "

"Anything you can say in front of me, you can say in front of my family, Malfoy," Arthur stated stiffly. He had lowered his wand and the rest followed his lead. Draco straightened up.

"Fine. I am here," he extended a hand toward Ginny, "to request your daughters hand in marriage, for that is what the Ministry has ordered us to do. Though it seems that she has already taken it upon herself to announce it." Draco looked seethingly at Ginny.

Mr. Weasley broke their heated stare. "If you are already engaged then why bother asking for her hand?"

Draco looked stiffly at him. "I was raised to do things proper. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with my," he coughed, "finance."

Ron raised his wand furiously and growled. "You're not going to have anything to do with her!"

Ginny sighed gravely, "Ron, please," she stood. "I'll talk to him." She was going to regret this.

She closed the door to the sitting room quietly.

"I only said anything because I want them to be with this, this _thing _we're going through with!"

Draco slumped into a worn arm chair, once again displaying a side reserved for only Ginny.

"We're not going through with something, we're being forced into something." He sighed deeply. "Why do you want them part of it anyways?" he sneered unpleasantly. " You're going to be mine soon besides."

" I shall never be_ yours_, Malfoy."

Ginny was close to tears. She'd wanted her father to give her away, for Hermione and Fleur and Luna to be her bridesmaids. With Malfoy's attitude, none of this felt anywhere near possible.

" You're not going to be their family, darling, you'll be mine." Malfoy had stood and was now holding a tearful Ginny's face. He said this quite sadistically and Ginny snarled away. She turned quickly to leave him and ran headlong into her wilting father.

Arthur seemed more rather ragged than usually standing in the same room as the clean cut, freshly robed Malfoy. He wrapped his aged arms around his clearly distressed daughter and faced the younger man with the same emotions that he had faced the man's father. Distrust. Disgust.

"Excuse me, but why exactly must you marry Ginny? People have gotten around this law before."

"However, she is engaged to me, whom the Ministry does not look kindly upon. My family and I have already proposed several alternatives and have faced the Wizengamot, to no avail." Draco coughed again. "It would seem that they believe the marriage to a member of the Order would be a suitable punishment for my taking of the Dark Mark."

Arthur looked, discouraged, at Ginny's head which was facing her suitor. He was quite resolved to keep Ginny out of Malfoy's "punishment" and was already listing his connections in his head, starting with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Well I would like to try talking to my own lot, if _you_ don't mind, before giving up my daughter."

"Thank you, Dad," Ginny whispered into his chest, still in his safe embrace.

Draco was not so comfortable as she. Since the Ministry had failed to excuse their coupling, he had seen Ginny as his own. Now, as she was wrapped in the arms of her father, he could see his future wife slipping in between his fingers like sand. As much as he hated the girl's family and her friends, he had seen from the few moments they had had that he could quite enjoy the life that had been arranged for him. It was one he had never acknowledged was possible, a happy, quiet life with a wife and children he loved. And now, seeing the elder Weasley cherishing it, Draco wanted that even more.

There was a yell from the kitchen. Ron burst in suddenly through the door behind his father. Harry was close behind.

"What is this all about," Ron sputtered angrily.

Arthur sighed and let go of Ginny, muttering to himself, "Kingsley, Aberforth, yes, Emelia Prewett, maybe, er…"

Ginny was rather teary eyed but determined not to look that way. If this was punishment for a Death Eater, well then she would act as the Order member she was and deliver that punishment to Malfoy. And, it seemed, her cause seemed hopeless anyways.

Draco, sobered slightly from the love the eldest Weasley had spewed, straightened his robes and brushed past Ginny, Ron, Harry, and the rest to retrieve his wand from the coffee table he had placed it upon his entrance. He was still rather angry. Ginny had pronounced their proposal before he himself had had the chance to even ask for her hand. A bad omen, it was, for her to be so bold. Now he seemed a fool, his dramatic arrival unnecessary. He looked across the room to where Ginny was standing at the threshold of the kitchen, Ron's copious nose prodding for information.

"I shall owl," he said quietly to her. His demanding voice was unneeded; the room had silenced after Mr. Weasley had left the house, supposedly to head to the Ministry at that moment. The missus was still collapsed in her seat breathing heavily, Angelina, Fleur and Hermione trying to comfort her. Bill had been standing behind Harry trying to hear the past conversation through the door and Charlie had rushed the small children upstairs.

At Draco's statement Ron had rushed towards him, wand once again raised.

"My- my sister-"

But Draco had raised his own wand to meet Ron's.

"Careful, Weasley," he said snidely, "if you attempt to attack me, I shall not take kindly." He scanned the room quickly, seeing the many Weasleys and hating his old school mate all the more. Ron backed away slightly as Hermione's hand slipped onto his shoulder. "There's nothing we can do right now," she whispered to him. "Let him go…"

Ron lowered his wand and Draco mirrored him. He stepped back, gave a curt nod to Ginny, still in the background, and swept his robes out the door with him.

The kitchen remained quiet. Ginny was ready to burst into tears at the sight of her mother and quickly sat at a chair pulled into the table.

Even though they couldn't agree on their nuptuals, both Ginny and Draco decided that moving in together as soon as possible was the best idea. This was never really discussed, but just a mutual understanding. Harry and Ron lived at the Burrow for the time being, and although Hermione was there as well, her warming company was not worth their constant rudeness.

Draco had not been living in his parent's mansion and had not desire to be there. Fortunately, the Malfoy's had several locations to their name and Draco had a favorite. It was a small mansion that hadn't been used in years and had the lightest feeling of all the family's properties. There was an overgrown garden that was the home of a family of fairies that sparkled in the moonlight and a hearth the size of a dining table.

Here was where Draco was planning to woo the youngest Weasley, in a place they could be comfortable together, raise children together. For that was the intention of the Minestry order: that wizards and witches mate with other wizards and witches so the magic would not die out as more and more married Muggles and produced Muggles and Squibs. It had not been enforced large scale; only certain wizards were to be paired at first. And Draco, being the son of such a dedicated Death Eater, was one of the first targeted.

At least he would have pureblood children.


	2. Chapter Two

Ginny was stunned by the normalacy of the house Draco brought her to. It was nothing like the home she had been raised in but had the wonderful air of having been lived in, like Hogwarts had. The large windows on the second floor were shuttered and those on the first floor opened with white curtains flowing out in the summer breeze. Draco guided her down a cobblestone path surrounded by small flowering bushes that lead to a wide wooden door. His hand grazed the small of Ginny's back and she coldly allowed this, for it was better than holding hands.

The interior of the home was not as collected as Ginny had expected. It had the distinct feeling of having been altered, with a mixture of light elements that felt out of place in the forbidding design. She smiled inwardly at awkward attempts Draco had made to make the place more welcoming.

When they entered, there was only a hallway with many doors on either side. It became visibly darker as it continued, but there were badly placed vases of wilting flowers every couple of meters. All the doors were closed except the one at the end of the hall which opened into a backyard full of overgrown greenery.

Ginny stopped abruptly on the doorstep, acutely aware that she had no idea where she was heading. Draco breezed past her and through the first door. She followed resolutely, prepared to accept the challenges facing her in this new life just as she had in the past.

But the room she was facing stopped her just as shortly as had the hall. It was an enormous sitting room, and it didn't seem to fit in with the exterior of the house. There were several plush black armchairs and a loveseat nestled around a large fireplace, yet Ginny couldn't remember seeing a chimney outside.

Draco had plopped himself in an armchair and was trying to coax a white short-haired kitten onto his lap.

He looked over to Ginny, still in the doorway. "You're welcome to come in."

She did. "What is this place?"

"It's where I live now." He scoffed. "Did you expect to go to the Manor?"

Ginny shuttered a little. She had heard enough about that place from Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Luna. She shrugged. "I didn't expect anything."

There was an awkward silence that acknowledged what was happening in their lives. That they were supposed to be together now. It didn't really matter if they got married, as long as they had a child. Two people from different worlds who hardly knew each other, expected to come together and have a child. Out of love?

Draco coughed pointedly. "This is Diana," he said. "She doesn't really like me. We," he said it deliberately as Ginny fell into an armchair, "also have a houseelf here, Knobby. He mostly keeps to himself, but he'll show up if you need something."

Ginny didn't say anything. She didn't want a house elf. She didn't want this house. She wanted to live at home for a while and take care of her mum and spend time with George. His child with Angelina would be here soon and she wanted to know it. There were other children too and her father…. Would that all be gone now? Would she become a Malfoy and stay here all day with just Draco and his house elf and cat?

Draco stared at the red headed girl as he reached again to the kitten. She didn't look happy at all.

"Would you like some coffee? I'm going to go fetch some." Ginny shook her head. "What about tea?" He smiled glamorously. "I have chamomile." Ginny shrugged and Draco left to get some mugs.

He would persuade her into happiness soon enough.


	3. Chapter Three

Ginny's things had arrived in his room. There was not much and he looked upon them in disdain; only a trunk covered in Gryffindor paraphernalia and a small suitcase that was very weathered and very out of place in his lavish house. Draco sighed and, resisting the urge to look earnestly through her luggage, opened the window wide and poked his head out.

The master bedroom overlooked the out of control garden behind the house. It was full of ancient twisting trees and bushes filled with flowers and fairies in the height of summer. In the midst of the explosion of green was Ginny's flaming red hair. In the shining sun, he could see touches of gold running through the sweeping locks and suddenly imagined burying his face into that hair.

Draco ran a hand through his white blonde hair and sighed. He coughed loudly to the garden. Ginny did not respond. He wanted to call out "Weasley!" But, instead he screwed up his face and called out, "_Ginny_."

She turned and put a hand up to her eyes to block out the sun. Draco was leaning his torso out a window on the second floor. He spoke out to her, "Your luggage is up here."

Ginny nodded her head and called, "How do I get up there?"

He rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I'll come get you." He turned from the window and Apparated to the front hall which opened to the greenery. Ginny saw him and walked morosely back into the relative darkness.

"This house can be disorienting." He again placed a light hand on the small of Ginny's back. "The rooms are larger than the plan really allows. It's similar to an Undetectable Expansion Charm, only on a much larger scale. All these doors," he gestured around, "have rooms that are fairly big even though they shouldn't."

Ginny nodded indifferently. She supposed she should be interested, but there were other things on her mind right now. Such as her new address. Draco led her up a staircase in the main hallway she hadn't noticed before. It was set into the wall and from the other direction would be hidden. At the top he entered the first door on the left and Ginny followed.

"_His bedroom." _Ginny sucked in her breathe and looked around. The walls were soothing shade of green, complimented by glistening hardwood floors. The bed, "_Their bed?" _looked fluffy and was covered head to foot in shiny grey linens.

Draco followed her tight gaze to the bed. He gave a little cough. "There are guest rooms," his eyes were bored into hers as she turned to look at him. "but you're welcome to stay in here."

Ginny inwardly shuttered at the look he was giving her, not knowing what it meant. She looked away and spotted her things sitting by a vanity with a matching chair. She did not what to decide to move into his bedroom at that very moment. "I'll think it over."

He nodded and quit staring at her blank face. He had hoped she would accept his veiled invitation knowing she would most likely refuse.


	4. Chapter Four

Hello readers,

I've made some changes to the first chapter just fyi. Thanks for all the reviews!

* * *

Ginny and Draco stared around absently.

"Is there someplace I can wash up?" She asked just to have something to do.

"My bath is the best; it's through here." He gestured to a door she had assumed was a closet. "The linens are being washed, so just call Knobby when you're finished." He swallowed.

Ginny wasn't listening; her hand was already turning the doorknob. "Thanks," she said deftly.

The bathroom was wonderful. It was all pastels and ivory and was as large as her room back home. The bath was the size of her old bed. "_I should make _this_ my room," _she thought ruefully. She ran her fingers over the smooth side of the tub, and stubbed her toe on its clawed foot. Wincing, she started the water and removed her clothes. The water warmed her pleasantly as she slid into it and she noticed it smelled of something flowery that made skin tingle.

Draco had watched his bathroom door close and sighed. Something in his stomach that had fired up when seeing the girl in the garden swept through him now, urging him to follow her into the privacy of that room. But he turned instead and went into the library across the hall. It was stacked with books on every wall, from floor to ceiling and had a few cushy armchairs and a coffee table. He picked up the book he'd left there earlier and settled down for a bit of reading.

* * *

Ginny had sunk in the magically warm water in her slumber. Her head had tipped back onto the porcelain lip of the tub.

She came awake with a jerk and rubbed her eyes with pruny fingers. How long had she been sleeping? It was impossible to tell if she had just nodded off or if she had been fully asleep. She pulled herself up, rolled her sore neck, and stepped onto a shaggy cream bathmat. There was a wooden pole attached horizontally to the stretch of wall under a window that looked like it should have towels hanging off it but there were none there. Ginny stepped onto the tile floor to look in a closet with a plaque on the door that said LINENS. It had shelves with stacks of sheets matching the color of those on Draco's bed. It had a heavy looking quilt of green and silver. It did not have any towels. Ginny looked around, panicking enough to make her heart thump. On a wooden hook next to the freestanding porcelain sink there hung one cream-colored hand towel.

Ginny peeked her head out the door of the bathroom. Draco's adjoining bedroom was empty and her trunk sat next to the vanity, which was not far from where she was hiding. Ginny laid a forearm over her freckled breasts and held the hand towel in front of her crotch. She took a deep breath and made a dash for her trunk. In her haste she knocked a knee into the chair of the vanity and squeezed her eyes shut in pain. She was at her trunk and it opened to reveal her wand atop her things. She rifled through the items searching for the robes she had in mind—

Draco heard a thud through the open doors of his library and bedroom. Concerned, he placed his book so it lay open on the cushion of his lounge chair. He strode into the bedroom and stopped suddenly to stare open mouthed at Ginny.

She was naked, except for a very small towel held in front of her nether regions like a loincloth. The arm that was reaching deep into her trunk was only partially hiding the breasts hanging from her torso. And, even from across the room Draco could see them…

Freckles.

Her whole body was covered in small light freckles, from the nape of her neck to her skinny ankles. Even her full buttocks, which, he thought, must rarely see daylight, had the spots scattered upon them as if they had been sprinkled by some creator, some sculptor of magnificent human bodies, such as the one bent over in his line of sight.

He coughed lightly, and averted his gaze before their eyes could meet.

Ginny looked up suddenly. She saw him for only a flash before standing with her back to him. Her hand flew back to cover her breasts and she shifted her towel quickly to cover her behind. An uncontrollable flush had risen quickly up her neck.

Draco could see the redness crawling from the small of her back, the part of her that he so frequently brushed through her clothes. He imagined himself rushing up behind her, pressing that bottom against his groin with a hand on her stomach while he grazed that freckled neck with bared teeth—

The image vanished and he saw the usually prideful young girl blushing in her shyness, frozen in embarrassment.

He cleared his throat and called, "Knobby-." He expected his voice to be hoarse but the word came out sharp.

The house elf popped into appearance holding a stack of large cream towels and bowing deeply. Ginny still did not move and tucked her chin into her collarbone.

"Knobby is begging pardon, Master," the elf said in an unusually deep voice for such a small creature. Draco grabbed the topmost towel. He nodded stiffly at the servant, who seemed to bow even lower before popping away.

Draco walked toward Ginny and unfolded the plush fabric, draping it carefully over her shoulders to cover her back. He felt the physical challenge of keeping his hand from smoothing her dripping red locks.

"Excuse me," he said through a clenched jaw, and he turned on his heel and sped into the hall.

Ginny gripped to larger towel more tightly with both hands at the tone of his voice and clutched it securely around herself. She grabbed random robes from the mess in the open trunk and shuffled quickly back to the bathroom.


	5. Chapter Five

Draco couldn't help himself. He had looked. He had seen her round thighs and how they melted smoothly into the curve of her backside. He had seen her flat tummy and could imagine himself floating above it, swirling his tongue around her belly button. He had seen her breasts, looking like they would fit perfectly in his hands. He imagined running those same hands through her long red hair and squeezing the subtle curve of her freckled hips from behind, pulling the girl back onto his—

Draco stopped himself in the hall and snapped his teeth together. This wasn't just anyone that he could just _fuck_. This was Ginny Weasley. The woman, not the girl, that he had Requested to start a magical family with. They had to be together, everyday, for the rest of their lives. Draco couldn't just _hit it_. Ginny would require a gentler touch, a respectful courtship. He ran a hand over the side of his head, smoothing the blonde hair there compulsively. He needed a plan.

He would apologize for bursting in.

_Even though it was her own damn fault._

He would invite her to have a special dinner to celebrate moving in together.

_She would get drunk off the heavy wine he had in the cellar._

He would sit next to her, make her laugh, be charming.

_Bring her upstairs and throw her on the bed._

Lead her to the bedroom, let her change in privacy.

_Rip off his clothes and push her downtown._

Tuck her in, change in the bathroom, climb into bed, face away.

_Kiss her everywhere, bend her over, make her moan._

_Touch every freckle. _

He sighed and quietly called Knobby. The elf appeared in front of his still body, bowing deeply, hooked nose on the floor.

Draco cleared his throat. "We have a new resident."

"Yes, master," he said deeply.

"Make sure her things are put away."

"Yes, master."

"Make something nice for dinner, something romantic."

"Yes, master."

"Bring up the best from the cellar; let's say a bottle of both red and white, I don't know what she likes."

"Yes, master."

"That is all."

"Yes, master."

"No, wait!" Draco took pause. "Collect some flowers from the garden… some that will look good with her hair…."

Knobby barely hesitated at the strange request. "Yes, master."

* * *

Ginny quickly patted herself dry and put on her khaki shorts and one of Fred's old Gryffindor polo shirts. She hugged the worn material to herself and pinched her eyes together to prevent the tears.

There was a pop and Ginny opened her eyes at the sound. Knobby was bowing to her, but not as low as he had to Draco.

"Knobby has been instructed to but away Miss's things," he stood straight now and was about the height of Ginny's hemline.

She looked at him awkwardly. "Oh, that's fine, I can do it."

Knobby peered at her from under his eyelids before bowing shortly. "Of course, Missus. Master would also like Misses to meet Master for dinner at seven o'clock. Master is thinking Miss should be wearing this." Knobby snapped his fingers and summoned a long silky green dress into his arms. It was folded carefully so as to not let it sweep the floor. The elf dipped his chin as he held out the gown to Ginny.

"I'm not wearing that!" she exclaimed red-faced.

But Knobby only said quietly, "It is Master's wish." He held out the dress as far as his thin, little arms could reach.

Ginny snatched it from him and held it up by the spaghetti straps. The color gleamed in the light from the low-hanging sun. She sighed and supposed there was no harm in abiding by this one wish of Draco's.

Knobby took her sigh as one of submission and bowed before popping out of sight. Ginny laid her gown on the large bed and resigned to deal with it later.

She went to the closest of two bureaus and opened the topmost drawer. It held carefully folded boxer shorts that looked and felt like same green material of her dress. Ginny slammed the shelf closed, disgusted. She opened a drawer on the identical dresser and found it too be empty. After dragging her things to the bureau, Ginny unceremoniously threw them into the drawers.

* * *

Knobby entered the lilac colored spare room to find his Master slumped on the cushiony bed face down. Draco heard the pop of the elf.

"What?" he asked coldly into the pillow.

"Knobby has brought Master his things for dinner."

Draco looked up surprised to see Knobby bowed over with folded black dress robes in his arms. He dropped his face back onto the pillow. "I'll be overdressed."

"Knobby has given the Missus clothes to wear, sir."

Draco snorted at the thought of the Weasley accepting an outfit picked out for her. But, at the thought of his dinner plans he sat up and took the robes from Knobby.

"And this, sir," Knobby summoned a green summer scarf that Draco hadn't worn since his parents' arraignment. He let out a deep sigh and took this as well.

He waved his hand at Knobby as he gazed at the scarf. "Leave me."

* * *

The green silk slipped over Ginny's skin like water. The dress contained her enough to go without underwear, but she felt like she didn't really have a choice with the way the fabric draped over her curves. She stared at herself in the long freestanding mirror of Draco's and flipped her hair over one shoulder and then the other. At that moment, Knobby appeared behind her. He was holding a strip of green that obviously went along with her outfit. She raised her eyebrows.

"Knobby is almost forgetting this," he said quietly. "Missus should be tying it around her waist."

Ginny took the wide strip from him and fashioned it around her hips, tying it loosely and placing the half-knot over one leg.

Knobby watched her. "It is to be going in the middle."

Ginny adjusted the knot to fall directly between her hips instead and gazed at herself again, noting that she didn't really look like her. The new accessory focused the eye to her wide hips. She tucked her red hair behind her ears and looked to Knobby, but he had vanished, perhaps walking out silently.

She left the room as well now and went downstairs. Down the hall a bit, near the back door, Draco was standing. Ginny had seen him dressed nicely before years ago, in what seemed like a different lifetime, at the Yule Ball. Now, Draco stood in smooth black dress robes, with a scarf that matched her dress tucked between his lapels. He was staring at a spot on the opposite wall, even as Ginny walked down the hall to him.

Draco looked up and she was closer than he expected, padding down the hall with bare feet. She was wearing an ankle length green dress with skinny straps and a matching sash around her waist. The neckline dipped slightly between her breasts and he swallowed, straightening and adjusting his pocketed hands.

"Look who cleans up well," he said, smirking.

Ginny stuck out her tongue and said nothing. Draco nodded towards the open door of the dining room and they entered. A long ornate table sat in the room with place settings on either end, far away from each other. A narrow glass vase was filled with pearl blue bellflowers. Draco silently offered the chair closest to the door to Ginny. She took it and watched him stride down the length of room and then looked at the silver laid out for her. The last significant meal she'd had was when she'd announced her Assignment to Draco. It seemed a lifetime had passed since then, but it had only been a week.

Draco reset his silverware on the corner that where Ginny was sitting. He smiled inwardly to himself for his brilliance. By sitting so close, he could assure a more intimate setting, make her talk, since she had barely said anything since they had arrived this afternoon. He plucked a blossom from the vase and went to tuck it into the hair gathered behind Ginny's ear. When his fingertips grazed the flesh there his hand slowed and she looked up at him with questioning brown eyes. Draco drew his arm back quickly and rushed to the wine cabinet Knobby had filled just a few minutes before they had entered.

"White, or red?" he asked smartly.

"You don't have anything stronger?" she looked straight ahead.

This threw Draco and he quickly scanned the cabinet. "Elderberry?" She let out an audible sigh and Draco ground his teeth. "Fire whiskey?"

"Yes."

He paused for a moment before grabbing the bottle and a stocky glass. After placing them on the table, he reached back to grab his favorite Pinot Blanc and a glass. By the time he had turned back to Ginny, she was pouring a second shot of fire whiskey, eyes watering from the first.

Draco froze again and watched the young girl lift the glass, nod to him, and dump it into her mouth. He could practically see smoke coming from between her lightly colored lips.

He coughed. "I don't think that will sit well with dinner."

Ginny slapped the table with the palm of her hand, "What are we having?"

Knobby chose this time to slip through a door to the kitchen that was disguised as a panel on the wall.

"Roasted Perch with fennel and tomatoes." he said gruffly, balancing a plate on each hand.

Grabbing another wine glass for Ginny, Draco sat down quickly. The elf placed the meal in front of each of them. He bowed back through the hidden door.

* * *

Ginny was slumped over the table, testing the delicate seams of her dress. Draco leaned back in his chair, gazing at her over the remains of his second glass. He sighed and pushed himself up from the table. He bent next to Ginny, lifted her arm around his neck and heaved her up with an arm under her knees.

Dinner had not been what he had wanted. Ginny became drunk rather quickly and started rambling along in answer to Draco's probing question: do you like your dress? are you enjoying your stay? did you get a chance to explore the house? All of her answers were no, but she continued on incongruous tangents.

He sighed. He was tired and horny from imagining alternate realities where he and his partner abandoned their meal to kiss passionately against the dining room wall.

Draco placed the girl carefully on his bed and she groaned slightly and began to snore. He ran a hand over the side of his head and changed quietly into a pair of the sleek green boxers he wore to bed in the summer heat. He laid carefully in the spot next to Ginny, and realized with a twitch of his cock that her dress and his shorts were made of the same material and color. He rolled towards her to look at her face more closely. Her face was pale and lightly freckled and she wore no makeup except some brown mascara. Draco brushed a strand of flaming hair off her forehead, before placing a hand on her velvety arm and closing his eyes.


	6. Chapter Six

When Ginny woke up, there was a heavy arm lying over her ribs that was so pale it seemed to glow in the darkness. The throbbing of her temples was more concerning than how close Draco must be, so she ignored his limb. It seemed to be very early in the morning judging by the amount of light coming through the open window. The curtains were fluttering.

Ginny settled into her pillow and closed her eyes against the pounding in her head. It wasn't helping, and she wasn't tired. Something told her that she'd gone to bed fairly early, but she couldn't quite remember why.

Her eyes snapped open as everything came back to her. Draco sending Knobby with the slinky green dress. Draco's ridiculous show of sitting next to her before dinner. The fire whiskey, her throat was still scalded. The wine on the fish. The wine in her glass. And her utmost determination to show Draco she wouldn't be some easy shag.

But he must have carried her up to bed because she couldn't for the life of her remember getting there herself. And she was still in her dress which was stretched much too tight across her back.

In her mind, she imagined Draco's arm to be someone else's. Maybe it was Harry's. She couldn't help but think about him lying next to her in a cozy bed like this. She could close her eyes and curl into him, it was all too easy. She absentmindedly stroked Draco's arm.

Her fingers grazed something rough. Ginny looked down at the pale arm and saw a great black tattoo of a skull and snake on Draco's forearm. Her stomach jerked. She ran her fingertips against the Dark Mark, avoiding it with her eyes and focusing instead on the small red bumps that surrounded it. They looked like a heat rash but she couldn't be sure in the dark. Ginny took her hand away and tucked both arms into her chest, resolving for the moment that it was Draco's business. Because this was Draco she was sharing a bed with, not Harry, or anyone else. Suddenly Ginny felt very, very tired, so she closed her eyes and promptly fell back to sleep.

* * *

When Draco awoke, Ginny was still fast asleep. Light was filtering through the open window and a summer breeze was tussling his hair. Ginny's back was to him. He inched closer to her and curled himself around her small frame. His left arm was wrapped around ribs.

His left arm.

Draco pulled back with a shock. He couldn't let her see his Mark, he wouldn't bring those memories back to her. This was supposed to be a turning point for him, to finally prove to someone like her that he could be different.

_Have I really changed?_

He sighed and thought about the actions that had put him in this position. He had seen her small profile and photo in the Prophet when she had begun to write articles for it. They were actually rather good and he had almost enjoyed reading her weekly opinion on the most recent Quidditch matches. The laws had been the real reason he started thinking about her in any sort of romantic way, though. He knew it was only a matter of time before she and Potter reconciled and he was left with worse options. Something about those laws being printed in the same issue as Ginny's article had made Draco suddenly imagine several golden haired children running ramped through his summer house, Ginny happily chasing after them with the same grin she wore in her headshot.

So he had done it. He had made a pleading Request at the Ministry to be Assigned to her, had stood in line with couple after happy couple, waiting to be formally Assigned to their lover in order to avoid being paired with another. He didn't know why it had been accepted, but he knew he could make it work no matter what. He was Draco Malfoy, after all.

Yes, Malfoy, the name that made him a pariah. The name he had promised to give Ginny as well.

Draco tucked his arm around her hip, positioning it so his Mark would be least noticeable.

* * *

When Ginny was truly awake, she got up quickly and stretched, wishing to whip away the drowsiness that was threatening to overcome her. She was sweaty and itchy. Something had stained the front of the green dress twisted around her body. She resigned to take a bath and think over a strange feeling that had settled in the put of her stomach at the sight of Draco's sleeping body sprawled on the large bed like a dead thing.

_It won't be anything; it'll be a duty._ A duty she hadn't asked for. _That doesn't matter, nobody asks for responsibilities. Do you think Harry—_No- _do you think mum and dad asked for all the responsibilities that came with housing the Order? Does anyone and for things like this? _It's not fair!_ Life's not fair. _I don't want this. _Do you think he wants this? Do you think he wants to—_No. _ It's the only way to have a child. You have to try. _Fine. I will try.

* * *

It was like a dream.

She was there, in his arms, all terry cloth and burning red hair. She kissed him and he pulled away, teasing, sneering. She met his lips again and there was a cold wetness on his cheek and her mouth opened to his with a quaking sob—

Draco jerked away, off the bed, to stand upright with a wave of intense dizziness. When it finally passed he could see Ginny, on his bed, wrapped in a white bath towel and tear tracks on her face.

"What are you _doing_?" he asked, feeling angry and guilty at her show of sudden sadness. It was much too early for this.

"Trying to make it romantic." She spoke so low it was almost a whisper.

Draco balked at her words. He didn't want her like this, _not like this, anyway, _not in a sick way. He had tried to make her feel like this was all normal, hadn't he? Tried to welcome her like a gentleman? He opened his mouth to say that this _it's sick_ wasn't what he wanted at all before pausing momentarily to ponder that perhaps what she wanted _or needed_ was more important.

Ginny saw his hesitation and all the reservations she'd thought about minutes before rushed back. She set her jaw and stood from the bed, clutching the soft towel to her collarbone. She stalked to her trunk, still sitting unpacked, and grabbed her wand and random clothing with one hand. Ginny shot Draco his own characteristic cold look before stomping from the bedroom. He could hear her footsteps all the way to the guest bedroom, where the ended with a slam of the door.


	7. Chapter 7

When Draco next saw Ginny, it was nearly nightfall. She was in the sitting room, curled around a mug of ice water in a cozy armchair in front of the empty fireplace.

"There you are," he said quietly, although he had carefully avoided her all day and had therefore always known where she had been.

Ginny looked up, her hair like a blazing fire around her pink face. She had spent too many hours wandering the garden.

"Hello," she responded softly.

He sat in the armchair adjacent to hers and ran his eyes over the worn yellow polo she wore. They both remained silent for a while, Ginny staring into the fireplace, Draco gazing out of the window.

Finally, he broke the thick quiet. "I wanted to talk about this morning—"

"I wasn't trying—I'm not…." She stopped short. Draco waited calmly, intently, but she said nothing else.

"I hope you didn't get the wrong impression when I brought you to my room last—"

"I didn't."

He coughed, wishing she would at least let him finish his damn sentence. Diana suddenly wove around his legs, mewing. At the noise, Ginny looked over.

"I don't want to rush anything," he said quickly; she faced him completely now, narrowing her eyes. "People have been saying the Ministry can get pushy, but—"

She scoffed forcefully, "I don't care—"

"—it doesn't matter… what they say." He turned his eyes to the cat. "I want you to be comfortable."

Ginny stopped abruptly. He cared about her _comfort_, when she was here in his Death Eater house?

But, he wasn't one, really, she reminded herself. This was the message Kingsley Shacklebolt had given her father when he had appealed in her place: _He isn't one of them anymore; he changed sides._

"Why did you do it?" Ginny was suddenly enraged. Her eyes searched his confused face. Diana scampered away. "Why did you switch sides? You shouldn't even be eligible for matchmaking."

_Matchmaking_. Is that what she was calling it? Draco ground his teeth together. "That's not how it was—"

"Then tell me how—" she stopped because his face was in his hands, fingers wrapping around white blonde hair.

Draco did not want to have this conversation, and even though he knew it was inevitable, he had not expected it to happen so soon. But, of course, this was Ginny Weasley. _Weasley_. He smirked into his hands. And he was a Malfoy.

When he looked back to her, his face was blank. "I didn't have a choice in the first place; my father made the decision for me when he took his Dark Mark." _You don't know what I've seen; you don't know what it's like with Him in your house._ He sighed and sat back in the armchair, a little of the old Malfoy swagger in his movements. "I wasn't the one who let my Aunt Bellatrix live with us. I had no say in using the Manor as the Dark Lord's headcourters."

Ginny stared at him. No one had spoken to her so bluntly about the war, not even Harry. He hadn't wanted to and it had always made her feel so distant….

"What was it like?" she spoke quietly, trying to hide her thirst for information after all this time.

His stance shifted slightly. He seemed to sink into the leather. "Worse than death," he croaked. And then the words were flowing from his mouth as though he had been rehearsing them for months of silence, for years. "It was punishment, I think, for my family's mistakes. And He knew, knew we were too frightened to do anything about it. Frightened for our own lives, always." He said this last word very quietly, and Ginny stared, unmoving. Draco had looked away. "We all had to do things we didn't want to. I—I never wanted—" he thought he had been able to tell her, the one he could finally speak to but…. He coughed.

Ginny thought back to this morning, when she had seen Draco's own ravaged Mark. She wanted to ask him about it now but it didn't seem like the right time. Something unclear had passed between them, some wall broken down. She did not want to re-erect it now.

He looked back to the window and saw that it was darker than he had expected. He had not eaten and to his knowledge, she had not either. "Knobby!" he called out.

The elf appeared with two trays in his hands and his face to the ground. The china was stark white against the slices of duck and dark crimson sauce. They took the plates and, with an encouraging look from Draco, dove into the dish. Ginny was almost glad to have something to occupy her mouth with. Knobby returned soon with ice water.

They went straight up to bed, Ginny trailing behind Draco, sweating in her overlarge clothing. Draco had seen the damp stains and couldn't help but think that they would have to do some shopping. Which would mean going out in public. People would see him, whom they hated, with her, whom they loved.

Ginny changed quietly in the bathroom while Draco stripped shamelessly in front of the open bedroom door. He received his book, _Transfiguring Your Topiary_, from the library across the hall and reclined onto the pillows.

Ginny reappeared shortly from the bathroom and it was all Draco could do not to stare. She was wearing a light crimson crewneck with two yellow stripes across the chest _Gryffindor_ and seemed to be all. It was just long enough to cover white underwear that flashed briefly at him when she climbed onto the bed. Red hair tumbled over her shoulders and pale freckles sprinkled her muscular legs. _Quidditch legs. _She hadn't looked at him at all, but kept her chin up all the same and laid stiffly on the duvet, closing her eyes and keeping her lips tight.

Draco placed the book open on his bedside table, next to his wand. He sat for several quiet minutes, trying to relax while simultaneously steering himself to say what he had been planning to say since early that evening.

He leaned over, placing a bracing elbow on the edge of his pillow and whispered into her ear: "Did _you_ want it to be romantic?"

Ginny bristled at the warm breath grazing her skin. She opened her eyes and looked sadly into Draco's. They were hungry. "I want it to be real. Not just sex; not just for—" _Children. _She did not need to say it out loud.

He stared back solemnly. "It is real," he promised.

And then she was kissing him. Too hard, not what he had expected. Their teeth bumped. He pulled back, easing her chapped lips into a position he enjoyed more, where he could gently suck her bottom one. She relaxed a little at this change, setting her head back onto her pillow. He was doing something delightful with his hands, rubbing a thumb in small circles on the small of her back, unintentionally dragging her shirt a few inches from it's safe place below her bottom.

Ginny closed her lips against his and his face pulled away. His eyes opened slowly to reveal hard grey irises. She almost looked… frightened. But in a proud way, like she did not want her feelings to show. He could see it though, in her eyes and the way she held tight to his elbows, restraining.

He slid a hand from her shoulder to her wrist and, careful to look straight in her eyes, lifted it to his lips, kissing softly beneath the palm of her hand. Ginny gasped a little. She had light scars there, ones that he knew about, because it had more than once been _his_ responsibility to bring her to the dungeons of Hogwarts for detentions in her sixth year.

She did not break eye contact, even though something inside of her was screaming for her to do it. At the brush of his lips against hers, she felt for the first time with him a small heart pounding between her legs. She relaxed more deeply. This was not so bad.

Draco could feel her calming slowly in his arms at his gentle touches. His lips whispered nonsensically against hers, against her jaw, against her neck. Her chest rose and fell heavily with each breath. He finally was able to bury his face into her sweet smelling hair and revel in it, as he had wished to from the moment he had seen her glowing in the garden.

He did not want to touch her too much this night. Well, he did, but he knew that if he was to keep his promise to her, to make her feel as he was feeling, he would need to move more slowly than his aching member would like.

So they pushed and pulled at each other for a while in a gentle, flowing, rhythm, before Ginny was too drowsy to continue anymore. She tucked herself tightly in his arms, their bare knees knocking, and quelled her loneliness with this boy.


	8. Chapter 8

Ginny felt a little swollen between her legs, although she could remember only kissing Draco. She was lying on him, one hand on his bare chest. Her thigh was sweaty where it touched his leg.

Her guiltiness was welling deeply inside her stomach and forced her to blink back tears. They overflowed anyway, and slid down her face, leaving cool wetness behind.

It had been only five months since things with Harry had ended. They had been strong for years after he killed Voldemort; or, at least, that's how he had perceived things. But, even after all that time spent together, there was still a void left by the time they had spent apart in her sixth year.

Harry had gone off doing God knows what with her brother and Hermione. And it had led to the end of all the madness. At the same time though, he had become a very great man, and she was still only sixteen and trying to come to terms with the death of her brother, trying to understand the things Harry refused to talk about, trying to help him when she had not known what was wrong.

She couldn't take it, unspoken assumption that she was not to ask or pry. When she tried, it would just cause him so much pain, and yet, knowing looks would pass between him and Ron or Hermione, or both, and they would take a long walk around the countryside.

Ginny couldn't help but feel that Draco had already tried harder than Harry ever had to answer her questions.

She sighed deeply and brushed at her tears, careful not to poke Draco's pale chest. His pectorals were hard and his skin soft. On his face, tiny wrinkles were quivering between his eyebrows and the corners of his lips twitched. She wondered vaguely what he was seeing behind the closed lids of his eyes while she guided herself back to sleep.

* * *

That evening after dinner, Ginny donned jeans because of the clipping night breeze. She took to the garden, wandering barefoot through soft earth, enjoying the sensation of it pressing between her toes. The wind picked up suddenly, whipping her hair in front of her face. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, left bare by her sleeveless blouse.

"Here," spoke a cool voice. Ginny turned and saw Draco walking towards her, a grey sweater in his outstretched hand. "I thought you might be cold." When Ginny took the sweater, he put both hands into his pockets. "It looks like summer's finally ending."

She nodded and pulled the sweater over her head. The sleeves hung over her knuckles. It was soft and smelled faintly of an herb that she couldn't quite name.

Draco watched her warily. She'd been quiet and lethargic all day. "What are you doing out here?" he asked softly.

"Just looking around." Ginny turned away from him. She turned away from him and the house. The garden path was dark and seemed to disappear into the bushes. Draco's arms slipped around her waist and the warmth of his body was suddenly pressing against her back. She shied away slightly. "What are you doing?"

His lips were at her ear as he said huskily, "Making it romantic."

Ginny shivered.

Draco turned her around and pulled her so close that the tips of their noses were nearly touching. He had told himself to just be aggressive, like she was one of the other floozies. But now that he was looking into those bright brown eyes, lit up by the light from the windows, he could feel his resolve melting. Something inside of him could tell she was different, that he couldn't treat her the same. And she smelled so good this close to him. He gripped her arms tightly, almost loosing his nerve. "I have to know," he whispered harshly, "that this is okay."

For a moment Ginny was frightened by the wild look in his eyes, but only for a moment. She thought back to their conversation yesterday and how broken he had seemed when she had asked him about his life as a Death Eater. Ginny was sure his emotions had been genuine.

She had broken eye contact, but now looked back to Draco, and said throatily, "It is."

He needed no more conformation but this. His hands were tight on her upper arms and then he was kissing her, nibbling her lip, sucking it, lining it with his tongue.

He twisted her suddenly around and they were pushing through nothingness and then they were in his room. His hands were on her back, tugging at his own grey sweater. Draco was just about to pull it off her when Ginny's hands appeared, straining against her chest.

He stepped away heaving.

She wouldn't look at him, but he could see the blush rising on her neck.

"I need you to be gentle," she said quietly.

_Gentle._ Even the way she said it made him want to take her harder than ever, right there in their clothing. But, of course, this was about what she wanted.

So he closed the gap between them again and pulled her face up to meet his. She resisted less than he'd expected.

And then Draco was kissing her, but sweetly this time, only mildly pressing his lips to hers. He continued to push his mouth against Ginny's cheek, her jawline, the tendons of her smooth neck. When he felt her quiver under his kisses, he dragged his lips back to hers, and this time she showed more enthusiasm. Her hands grazed his toned back and she opened her mouth to him.

Draco teased her lightly, sucking her lower lip as they backed into the bed. Ginny sat and meekly peeled her layered tops off in one motion; Draco did the same and then stared at the girl in front of him. Her body glowed in the semi-darkness, freckles speckling her cleavage and shoulders. His body tensed in excitement, and he pushed himself between her knees, his tongue diving back to her mouth.

Soon, he was on top of her, searching her body. He wanted to conquer her, to put her out of the misery that had been consuming her all day. He knew some of it was his own fault; perhaps he was pushing her too quickly. But, now she was tugging at his belt and unbuttoning her jeans. Obviously, he wasn't causing her so much pain that she didn't want to continue.

In some ways, Draco was right. Ginny wanted this, although not for love, which made her quell slightly. But Draco kept pursuing her, snuffling his mouth against her neck, hands gripping her back, so she let him. Ginny wanted this barrier to be past them, wanted to get it over with. Maybe if she got pregnant she would return home, raise her child in the loving and large Weasley family. The Ministry laws didn't specifically demand marriage; that had been Draco's idea. They only wanted her to enter into a relationship that resulted in a child, and if they were to separate she would receive compensation.

Draco was pulling at the straps of her bra, and she couldn't decide if he should be allowed to see her so bare. _He's already seen you naked_, she reminded herself, and arched to let his fingers slid onto her back.

As her bra came free, Draco bent his head to nestle it against her bosom. He could hear her racing heart and put his hands over her ribs, letting his fingers slowly glide over each. Her torso felt thin to him, wasted. With her clothes he had not really noticed the slightly jutting curve of her collarbone or the lack of fullness to her breasts. He brushed away his feeling of uneasiness and took a small pink nipple into his wet mouth. She hardened under his hot breath and shivered unwelcome anticipation.

The need in her was obvious to Draco, but her hesitation was also obvious. When his hand grazed her inner thigh, she turned her face away. When he moaned softly in her ear, the corners of her full mouth turned down.

Finally he pulled his face away and sighed pointedly. "What can I do for you?" Annoyance colored his heaving voice. "What would make it better?"

She said nothing.

"Ginny!" he cried, exasperated.

She met his eyes, finally. Without speaking she pulled him to her side and rolled with her back to him, pressing firmly up against his chest.

Draco sucked on the tensed muscle of her shoulder and rocked gently back and forth. His cock was pushing against her bottom, swollen with desire. He moved his fingers from her breasts to her underpants and slid them slowly under the waistband. Ginny quaked slightly when he rubbed the hard nub between her legs. She hurriedly removed the last of her clothing and Draco did the same. Now there was nothing between them but glistening sweat. He reached farther to her hollow and expertly reached inside of her with a finger, holding her tight to him with his other arm. Her hands clutched it to her chest tightly, digging into his forearm.

She was ready for him. They shifted together, hips pressing hips, bones grinding. His cock met his fingers, and replaced them smoothly.

It hurt her at first, like he was pushing in the wrong place. And then she was much too tight, too unused these long months after her last separation. But Draco kept thrusting at her, mildly, claiming centimeter after centimeter as his own. And then it was easy. She leaned against him and wrapped a leg around one of his. He was moving faster, harder, gripping her thigh with a straining hand. Making her comfortable had taken longer than he had anticipated and now he would not last. Filled with pride, Draco moved faster, engulfed in the scent of the girl's hair and the feel of her soft breasts against the arm she still held. He held out as long as he could, wanting this last, pitching moment to last forever, until he thrust his hardest into her and reveled in her protesting groans as he came.

Once he had slowed, Ginny rolled away suddenly. She felt an aching throb that longed to be released deep inside of her, but loathed the thought of Draco pleasing her. She hadn't made a sound until he finished roughly and held this achievement close to herself.

Draco looked, exhausted, at the back of Ginny's head. She made no move to return to him and merely covered herself with the thin sheets and curled under them. He turned to the edge of the bed.

Somehow, this wasn't the romantic ending he'd imagined.

* * *

Thank you to Nutmeg44, Katereena, and roni2010 for your constant feedback!


	9. Chapter 9

The small circular clock the hung over the bureaus said that the time was 3:52, much too early to be awake. Even so, Draco was, and, judging by her controlled fidgeting, Ginny was as well. Her back was to him, as always, and he held his hand mere centimeters from her neck, itching to stroke it.

Suddenly, Ginny rolled back on her shoulder and his palm was flesh against her upper arm. She gazed at him with drooping lids but a burning intensity behind them.

Draco's fingers fluttered gently against her smooth skin. She looked away.

The memory of her dissatisfacted reaction to their first sexual encounter appeared behind Draco's eyes with every blink. The earliness of the hour made him feel bold.

"You didn't enjoy it." It wasn't a question.

She rolled away.

The back of his fingers brushed the tips of her arm hair.

"Did you expect me to?"

The smirk could be heard in his voice. "Well, I do like to please."

At first she said nothing. Then very quietly, and vulnerably: "I can be hard to please." She turned her face into the pillows.

He wondered if she meant what her thought she might mean. "That's fine; I'm very persistent."

* * *

It was 4:14 and Draco tugged on Ginny's shoulder until she was lying face to face with him. "What's with all your oversized clothes?" The corner of his mouth twitched.

"They're my brother's shirts," she breathed.

"Which one?"

"Fred." Ginny broke eye contact.

* * *

Her head was cradled in the crook of her arm, red hair streaming against the silver pillowcase. 4:37. He circled her wrinkled elbow with a finger. She shuttered involuntarily.

"Do you want," he wet his lips, "A boy or a girl?"

"I just want to be pregnant."

"You have no preference?"

_I just want to get it all over with. _"No; it doesn't matter."

"You're not a very good liar."

She looked at him starkly; she had always considered herself a very good liar.

He looked back intensely. "I really want us to be honest. I barely know you, and I'd like to know that what I _do_ know is the truth!"

His hand was around her small wrist. He didn't remember moving it there. The bones felt incredibly fragile under his long fingers. She had closed her eyes.

His hands slid away from her. There was a long moment of silence. "I wouldn't mind having a first-born son, but I wouldn't want him to turn out like me. And there have been a lot of Malfoy boys, and they all seem to have a problem making good decisions."

He was staring hard at her, trying to hide his yearning for her in the slowly brightening room.

"I'm not sure what I'd prefer yet," she said softly. His eyes pierced her; she moved her own to the window. "I really don't feel ready."

Draco's lips closed tight. She was young, barely surpassing childhood, and hurt in ways he was struggling all the time to understand. And he had wanted to seduce her, show her a life of passion that she would have never known with dear Potter.

The more he tried to keep Potter from his mind, the more he imagined his Ginny and Potter being together; him a faceless man and her sitting atop him, head back in ecstasy.

Draco took her hands tightly and pressed them wordlessly to his face, his cheeks, his mouth, wishing the feel of them would erase the pictures that played behind his closed eyes.

Ginny gaped at him while moving her hands around his face roughly. He was aching for her to touch him herself, but she questioned every motive. However, she could not deny that the boy's skin was wonderfully smooth, or that the expression on his face made her want to grasp him to her chest as if soothing a child.

There were things about Draco she didn't know if she would ever understand. She needed him to open up to her about his whole life and his thoughts. He was a complete enigma. But Ginny knew she would need to tell him about herself as well and she dreaded this, if only because so much of her life seemed to revolve around Harry. How could she be honest to this new lover about her fear of losing her family, and Harry among them? If Ginny was honest with herself, she wanted to know and understand everything about Draco's life and share nothing of hers.

Their bodies had wormed closer to each other of their own accord. Ginny grazed her fingers over the tip of his pointed nose. His eyes were shut, and he was afraid to open them lest she shy from their inherent coldness. Would their children have chilling grey eyes as well? Or would they have Ginny's warm brown ones?

He would not let her hands leave his face even though they were getting too warm there. Her small palms and gentle fingertips felt too good to let them escape. Ginny had closed her eyes as well and let Draco guide her hands into his hair and behind his ears, exploring all the time. They were sleepless, yet too tired to go any further.

* * *

In the late morning, Ginny received a letter from George, delivered by his barn owl Weatherbee. It was inviting both Ginny and Draco to a casual yet proper engagement party at the Burrow with the whole of the Weasley clan that very night.

Ginny was a little surprised at the fact that her family was inviting Draco back so soon. Everyone's bad behavior at their last dinner together was fresh in her mind still.

However, it was not as though she could avoid the fact that she and Draco were now together, whether she wanted to or not. And she would never be able to part from any of her brothers or her parents, especially after Fred's death. They had coveted their time together after Voldemort's death, and Ginny coveted it still.

* * *

When she met with Draco for lunch, for he had locked himself in his office all morning, she raised the subject to him and he agreed without much consideration, because he knew he could find some excuse to refuse Ginny this in order to spare himself. So he did not think about this coming event, except of what he wished he could be to her family. Charming. Witty. Lovable? He did not know if he wanted to go that far. But, he supposed he would at least be tolerable.

* * *

In the early evening, they dressed and prepared to Apparate. Ginny had not spoken to Draco about the possibility of Harry coming. George had said this was to be casual, and there was nearly no doubt in Ginny's mind that this would be no different than any other family dinner, and those always included Harry and usually little Teddy. So the thoughts that had dogged Ginny in the early morning hours of the day would continue until Draco and her came face to face with the entity of the problem.


	10. Chapter 10

Ginny looked wonderful in her loose powder blue dress. Draco couldn't help but stare as he followed her up to the front door of her home; her old home.

He had touched her only to Apparate since their groggy moments that morning. The day had tested him, and he did not want to take out his frustration on the one person he wanted to please more than anything else. But, now the young girl seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder. She did not wait for Draco to reach the door before crossing the threshold. A roaring cheer came from within the brightly lit space around her silhouette.

They could not get far into the kitchen because there was a mass of ginger haired and freckled people blocking anyway beyond a meter past the threshold. There were others too, now that Draco looked harder; many had been there not a fortnight ago: Granger, Loony Lovegood, whose hair was cut to her elbows now, Fleur Delacour, Angelina Johnson, looking impossibly bulbous, and of course, Potter.

Draco struggled with his stupidity. Potter would be there, he was practically sprouting red hair from his ears because he spent so much time with the Weasleys. He had not considered that anyone would invite Ginny's ex-boyfriend to her engagement party, however. Ludicrously, he imagined Potter swooping through the crowd of people, lifting Ginny off her feet, and kissing her deeper than she had ever kissed Draco. But no, Potter was huffing at the back of the queue with a large mug butterbeer, talking quietly to Angelina, who had sat down with dark circles under eyes, but was smiling.

* * *

Drinks were handed out. Draco took something strong and bitter. Nobody seemed interested in speaking to him, and so he didn't speak. Eventually everyone went outside to hand out pieces of a large golden frosted cake, but he had drank so much his stomach was queasy so he wandered around the large unkempt yard. He almost felt bad about taking Ginny away from this happy family she had. There was no disorder here, no shame in the name Weasley.

* * *

When George started setting off fireworks, Ginny came and shoved a cup of hot coffee into his hands. She turned away quick with only a sour face and silence. Draco wondered if she had made it herself.

* * *

When his head felt clearer, Draco went to find her, to apologize, even though he didn't understand why he felt that this would fix things.

But, he couldn't find Ginny in the jumble of laughing people. A ponytail of bushy brown hair swished passed him and he grabbed the arm of the girl it belonged to. Granger, he felt, was relatively safe, even though he knew she was fully capable of punching him in the face.

"Ginny," he said to her familiar unattractive face. "Where is she?"

"Lost her, have you?" Now Ron Weasley was there with Granger. Draco scowled at him and released the girl's arm. "Maybe she's the one who's lost you!" He laughed raunchily.

Granger's hands were on Weasley's shoulder and she nodded to the house, "I think she went inside."

Weasley looked to her furiously, "Hermione, I wanted—"

"Oh come on, Ron!" Granger tugged him away roughly and Draco watched Weasley's anger slide off his face when the girl touched him again more gently.

When Draco reentered the house, he could hear voices arguing but was hard-pressed to find a path that led to them. They dimmed and amplified as he attempted to find their source, one of which was obviously his bride-to-be.

"I told you already, I'm going through with this," she was saying.

There was a male voice too that sounded suspiciously like Potter's, "I don't understand; you've never had a problem breaking rules before anyway."

"It's different now. We're not fighting Voldemort anymore, Harry, and I want to be happy."

"You really think you'll be happy with him? You think you belong with him?" Potter's voice was angry and loud.

"I'll be happier than I was with you!"

"Ginny, come back to me, please!"

"No, Harry, leave me alone—"

"But—"

"She said no, Potter," Draco had found entrance to the pantry where they were hiding, tucked away past the restroom. Ginny was standing against the shelves lining the wall. Potter was very close to her and had his hands raised between them. Pleading, like a weakling.

Draco was seething. A vein in his temple was throbbing horribly. Potter had stepped away from Ginny the moment Draco had slammed the door open on the pair of them, his hand going for his wand on instinct.

But Ginny's cracked voice broke through the air thick with tension before Draco could reach for his own wand.

"Don't," her voice was raw. It cried out to him. Immediately, he was wrenching her toward him and out of the pantry, slamming the door closed with Potter still inside.

* * *

By the time they were back at his manor, Draco felt like an endless pool of emotion. His rage at discovering Potter so close to his Ginny had evaporated into elation at the realization that she did not want to be with the stupid scar-head, but with him instead. She preferred his Mark to Potter's scar. She thought she would be happier with him.

But, she was not happy now. After saying goodbyes to her family members, they had walked with linked arms until out of sight. Once her back was turned to them, Ginny had let tears drip down her face and shook silently against Draco's upper arm.

And now, back in their quiet bedroom, she turned from him and wiped her nose on her arm and held her face between her hands. She cared but also did not care that Draco Malfoy was watching her fall apart. She felt stupid that it was he that was there. However, he had already seen all of her physical being and had taken her into his bed and this, in Ginny's mind, was nothing compared to that.

She wanted to erase everything in her life and start fresh. She wanted to forget Harry and the life they could have shared together. She desired to never again be this moping little girl who yelled at stupid boys behind closed doors and built walls against the people who were trying to help her.

Because that's what Draco would do, yes. He was the one who could help her with all of these things.

So when Ginny felt his slender hands on her shoulders, she turned to look at his face and did not ignore the inner tremble that moved through her when their eyes met. She could see all the emotion he had felt behind the closed off expression on his face. She reached up and brushed her fingers against his cheek, making him stir. She wanted to make him feel like a husband, like she was with someone that he could be that intimate with.

Her hands held his face and he turned his cheek into one. Then, Ginny wasn't sure why exactly she was having the urge to do so, she pulled her hands away and used them to slide the straps of her dress over her shoulders. As it fell to her ankles she stared hard at his chin. She knew his eyes would be raking her and watching him would only make her shy, even in her underwear.

But, Draco wanted her to look at him. He put his hand firmly on her jaw and dragged her face very close to his. Ginny lowered her eyes, and Draco cooed her name until she finally met his gaze. The rims of her eyes were red and parts of her face wet. He wiped these parts gently and bent his head lower until their foreheads were touching. He wanted to be tender, like a lover would be with a real love. He didn't know really how to do that though. Draco had never been in love before.

Their noses brushed, and then their lips were searching and Draco did not want to remove his hands from her face to fully appreciate the soft warm body that was getting so close to him in fear that he would be too excited. But Ginny's hands had slipped under his robe and untucked the back of his dress shirt. Her fingers were dancing along the small of his back even as he sucked lightly on her lip. Draco finally lifted his hands from her face and feverishly began to unbutton his shirt. Her cleavage graced his fingers and he released a guttural groan. Ginny was inexplicably trying to pull their waists closer while he was still attempting to remove his clothing.

Finally, Draco gave in to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a wrenching, open-mouthed kiss. He wanted to devour every part of her. His fingers pulled at the clasp of her bra and then she was released. She did not want him to look but he was pulling his mouth away from hers and moving down her body. His lips barely touched her nipples but they became hard. Draco was on his knees and was holding Ginny to him by her wonderful thick thighs and looking into her anxious face through the gap between her lightly spotted breasts. Her delicate hands were again on his face and he stared up at her as her tangled his fingers in her underwear and pulled them to the floor. He pulled his face from her soft hands and playfully closed his lips over some of the curly red hairs between her legs.

Ginny was steps away in a flash, back turned to him, a blush rushing over her torso and shoulders. He followed her and jerked her naked body back to him, smirking. He loved playing with her like this and the fact that she was letting him. Her eyes held apprehension but it disappeared when he gently kissed her temple.

Then, he scooped the girl up into his arms and tossed her on to the bed. She watched bashfully when he finally peeled off his dress clothes. Draco's penis was hooded and fully erect; the sight of it made Ginny's legs numb.

Swaggering over, Draco opened his arms and beckoned Ginny. She raised her eyebrows, but went to him all the same. But, then he was swooping her up again and let her wrap her legs around his waist. Very aware of how suddenly exposed she was, Ginny squirmed to get down but Draco was sitting on the edge of the bed and his arms were wrapped around her thighs.

"Ginny," he said, both gently and snidely into her ear. "If you're nervous, we can stop." He could not stop. He would not ever be able to motivate himself to stop at this point, when he could feel the wetness of her core sliding on his lap. But, if she asked him to, he would stop.

Ginny's legs tensed around his waist, and then relaxed. "No, don't," she whispered, turning away slightly. She had chosen him tonight; she had made this decision.

Draco kissed the lobe of her ear, and her jaw, and chin, coaxing her face back to his. His tongue touched her lips briefly, then retreated. His enlarged member rubbed anxiously against the moist crevice where her legs met. He pressed it against her burning core, not forcing entry, but asking permission. She kissed him roughly in response.

When he slid into her, tears sprung to her eyes. He was filling her up in a way that she desperately had missed but not taken notice of. She sucked in her breath at the feeling, of her body being not quite ready for him. He seemed to take her reaction as pain and moved incrementally until their pelvises met. But Ginny wanted the pain and ground her hips upward, relishing the feeling of his throbbing dick inside her, like a miniature heart.

She was atop his lap but Draco, always dominant, was the one who bucked his hips, bouncing her body with tremendous speed, smirking at the way her breasts lolled in front of his face. He caught one in his mouth and suckled the hard nipple. Ginny let out a stifled moan. He nibbled her furiously, wanting to make her lose control while he was losing himself. He pressed his face into her soft heat of her bosom and thrust his hips wildly upward.

"Slower," Ginny groaned.

So he obeyed, although it was torturous. She clenched and flexed around him, and he dug his fingers into the flesh of her backside at the feeling and smirked when she moaned again.

Draco was something she had never had. He was impossibly deep in her, and was now moving too slowly to bare. He allowed her to cling to him tighter and tighter as she rose to the brink and struggled to go over the edge. She groaned a little in frustration at her inability to please, and to be pleased. Her fingernails drove into Draco's back. She whispered his name pleadingly.

"Come on," he grunted into her ear.

"I can't!" she cried tremulously.

"Relax."

Ginny released all the tension in her muscles at his command. She went slack over his body and suddenly felt a rush of blood to her head. He drilled into her three times and then bit down savagely onto her shoulder and she finally unwound onto him in a great combination of moans and exhalations. And, convulsing at her sudden release, Draco poured himself into her as well.

His hands had touched nearly ever inch of her body over the course of their actions, and now they slithered up Ginny's torso, over her protruding ribs and her pitching breasts. When she expected them to stop, they persisted over her shoulders and up her slim neck until Draco held her spotted face in both hands. Her face was flushed and damp, and she again refused to meet his gaze out of embarrassment of the noises she had made, when he had been nearly silent.

Draco enjoyed her cries, though. She said so little to him, but her groans and whimpers during their intercourse spoke more than enough of what he wanted to hear.

They sat, embracing, for many moments; it could have been days. Draco did not want to let this warm being from his arms, for sometimes her actions made it feel like she would abandon him. Like earlier that night.

He clung tighter, and Ginny sighed, enjoying the feeling of longing he wore so casually around her. She was getting used to his constant need for physical affection. As they reclined into a position more suitable for slumbering, Ginny thought that it showed the humanness hidden inside him.


	11. Chapter 11

Ginny and Draco didn't talk about what happened at the Burrow, although everyday Draco was thankful he had overheard what was said in the pantry. It gave him hope for their future, even as Ginny's face became thinner and sadder. He had spent enough time masking himself to know when she was doing the same.

So, after dinner one chilly night, sitting in front of a crackling fire Knobby had set for them, Draco prodded.

He moved considerably closer to her small body, hunched into the corner of the leather sofa.

"I'm worried about you," he cooed. "You haven't been sleeping well."

It was true. He had awoken many times in the past week to find her out of bed, running water into to the tub for a bath or mindlessly scanning the titles in his library. Always she returned with him if he asked her to, but she lay awake, sometimes tossing and turning or else staring blankly at the ceiling.

"I'm fine," she said quietly and that was all. She was only fine, just fine. Her period had come and gone just like always. She had avoided Draco that week even though he claimed to not mind. Ginny had been disgusted at the notion, at her own body.

And now it was disobeying her in every sense. She wanted to sleep, she was exhausted, but every night sleep refusing to come. She wanted to be healthy, able to nourish a baby, but her weight seemed to have dropped in the past weeks. She wanted to make love to Draco, but at the same time, his touch repelled her, reminded her that they did not love each other. At that moment he brushed his fingers on her arm and she drew back slightly.

Draco's brows came together. He didn't understand how they could be together so intimately at some times, and yet at this moment he felt so distant. Just the other night, when he had collapsed into their bed after a day meeting with Ministry officials, she had prompted him into her arms, cradling his head in the warm place under her collarbone. On Ginny's part, it had been an attempt to feel like she was special, that she would be different from the other women Draco would have been with. If she could comfort him when he most needed it, perhaps she would be of more value than only a womb. She failed to see any other reason for their constant intercourse.

But now she had to resist him, for her head was swimming and he didn't love her. Maybe if he did, she would allow him to comfort her, hold her, and bring her to a bed where she could attempt to get some rest.

"Let me help you," Draco said commandingly. His voice poured like cool water onto Ginny. She nodded meekly. He moved right next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, bringing her into the safety of his chest. She wasn't sure what to think. She wanted the warmth of a body, but couldn't shake her misgivings.

"I'm not just a uterus, you know," she blurted out quietly. Draco stared at her, shocked for a moment but quickly regaining his composure.

"Of course not—" he began.

"So I don't want you to treat me like one, having sex nearly every night. You can have your Ministry-ordered baby with any old witch so if that's all you want—"

"What makes you think that's all I want, Ginny?" His voice had become suddenly husky. Ginny caught her breath. "I don't just want to conceive, although I can't deny that I am anxious to. I want to wed you, bed you, and maybe even have you be the tiniest bit pleased with the idea. What do you think about that? "

Ginny was speechless. She felt like she had created all her misgivings in her own head. Draco was pressed against her side now, the arm around her shoulders tight and a warm palm high up on her thigh. Their faces were inches apart. Draco tilted his to better examine the curved tendons of her neck. Ginny swallowed nervously.

He looked back into her eyes. "I do want to please you, Ginny," his hand slid precariously up her leg until he could run his thumb along the seam of her panties under her flannel pajama bottoms. "I'm your partner, it's my duty." His hand was moving inward, easing her legs apart. The hand on her shoulder was soothing. He felt her relax.

"That's it," he cooed to her. " Are you feeling a little more trusting?"

Ginny nodded. She still felt dizzy, but it was a slightly pleasant feeling, like a little high. Draco's hand between her legs was making her toes feel fuzzy. She nuzzled his cheek a bit with her forehead.

"Can you get up for a moment?"

She did and quickly realized he was removing his silky pants while sitting still on the sofa. Ginny gave him an exasperated look and he smirked. "We don't have to do it if you don't want to, but there are other ways to play."

She grinned and, intrigued, removed her own pants. Draco reached out and tweaked the band of her underwear, so she removed those as well. He stared at her tuft of dark red hair until she blushed and tried to cover it with her hand. Draco laughed and took her hand to pull her onto his lap. She came along with him, but at the last moment, he flipped her body around so her bare ass came into his lap.

Ginny squealed a little, wriggling to escape him, but he said softly, "Weren't you relaxing?"

She ceased, and slumped back against his chest, feeling his hardened penis pressing against her ass though his boxer briefs. Draco parted her legs again, sliding an arm under one and brushing his fingers against her vulva. She groaned a little and widened in anticipation. He ran his other hand across her stomach on an achingly slow slope leading to her clitoris, already throbbing slightly. He finally reached it, and pulled her tiny hood, sending a shuddering gasp through the girl atop him at the first touch. Fingers stroked her slit, eliciting soft moans that were barely more than whispers. Draco began flicking quickly her clit and in the same moment thrust one finger into her soft body.

Ginny had never experienced this kind of attention focused at her core and she ground her hips on his hand, wishing for deeper and more aggressive caresses. She let her head fall back onto the edge of the sofa and felt Draco lean his face against hers. With each kiss she placed on his temple, he added several quick hard thrusts, ones that caused her to moan in frustration. She wanted to come, to finish for him, but found it a barrier hard to breach. He was patient, however, and moved with certitude to help her climb even as she moved desperately against his cock. He stretched his hand to reach her asshole and stroked it as well; Ginny tensed more than ever.

"Love, relax," Draco murmured in her ear.

At these words, Ginny took several deep calming breathes, and opened herself to Draco like a flower. After a few goods pumps from him, she was flowing onto his lap, and he stroked her beautiful red hair with the hand that had worked at her clit. They rode out her orgasm, still half clothed on the supple sofa cushions and finally  
Ginny collapsed onto Draco's chest as the crackling fire warmed her inner legs still bared to their quiet house.

Ginny was nearly asleep by the time Draco carried to their bedroom; not but a few murmurs escaped her lips as he moved her. She slept fitfully that night and they didn't leave the bedroom the next morning until nearly noon.


End file.
